


Always a Place

by Klitch



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25194031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klitch/pseuds/Klitch
Summary: In the aftermath of the final battle, Fushimi returns to Scepter 4.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	Always a Place

**Author's Note:**

> If this seems familiar, I posted it on Tumblr about four years ago shortly after the series finished. I'd been meaning to upload it here where it's more easily findable forever. Anyway, enjoy Scepter 4 reunion fic because apparently we're never going to get a proper canon one.

Fushimi sat hunched over on a cot in one of Scepter 4's vans, staring at Munakata's back. 

This one was a medical van, intended to handle anyone injured on the job, but according to Munakata most of the emergency medical staff was elsewhere still handling the fallout from Hisui Nagare's “perfect world.” They hadn't gotten far from the crumbling remains of the Green clan's hideout before Munakata had offered to take over the job of supporting Fushimi from Hirasaka Douhan, who had nodded and handed him over before disappearing without another word. Munakata had wrapped Fushimi's arm around his shoulders and dragged him to the medical van, sat him down on one of the cots and told him to rest for a bit while Munakata took care of the rest of the situation for the moment. 

Everything hurt, and Fushimi's body seemed to be shaking as he tried to keep his breathing steady. It wasn't just the stab wound in his thigh -- though that was still bleeding sluggishly, sticky and uncomfortable against the fabric of his pants and who knew how much blood he had lost. Beyond that, he'd lost track of how long he'd been fighting against Sukuna Gojou before Misaki had finally shown up – _shown up to save him,_ and Fushimi still couldn't quite believe it – and in that time he'd thrown every ounce of strength into his attacks, tossing knife after knife lit up in turns by blue and red until he couldn't even call up so much as a single spark anymore and he still felt shaky and weak. He was reasonably certain that he'd at least bruised some ribs being tossed around and he felt sore in a dozen different places. 

He could see Munakata's back still in front of him, standing just inside the open doorway of the van giving orders to various subordinates. Fushimi couldn't see any of their faces from where he was sitting and he suspected that none of them could see him either, no one aware that the traitor had once more come slinking back into their midst. 

_“I am a traitor.”_

_“No, you're not!”_ Misaki's words immediately rang in his head and Fushimi grimaced. Maybe those words had been true – he was _trying,_ he really was, trying to believe in the things part of him had always known were true but had been too afraid to accept. But he'd branded himself with that word for years now, carved it into his skin like a burn that didn't heal, and admitting that it had never fit him at all was hard. Even now he could hear Munakata's voice in his head too, words warring with Misaki's. 

_“You're used to being a traitor.”_

His fingers curled into the fabric of his pants just above the stab wound, where the blood had seeped in thick and heavy. It had all been an act, of course. Hadn't that been Munakata's order, to infiltrate jungle by any means necessary? There was no way Munakata wouldn't have known that when Fushimi began the fight it was with the full purpose of publicly walking out of Scepter 4 in order to join jungle. Munakata had only been playing along, had only added his own twist to the script Fushimi had decided to follow. 

Only an act, he knew that. But still the words froze in his blood when he thought about them, and the wound in his thigh burned. 

Where he was supposed to go now, what he was supposed to do...it made his head ache worse just thinking about it. In truth, Fushimi hadn't considered this outcome at all, hadn't in any way expected to end up in one of Scepter 4's medical vans while Munakata gave out orders in front of him. When he'd started that fight, when he'd joined jungle and opened the path for Munakata, it had been in the full belief that he wouldn't be returning to Scepter 4 afterward. That he would get out of this mission alive had never been part of the plan. 

Never been part of _his_ plan, and Fushimi stared at Munakata again. 

He had no idea how Munakata had gotten in touch with Hirasaka, why Munakata had gone to the trouble of sending her after him. Now that Fushimi thought about it Munakata had probably been behind Misaki's appearance too, how else would Misaki have known that Fushimi's betrayal had been false from the beginning. So there had been an extraction plan for him from the start. 

Pain shot through his leg again and Fushimi wavered a little where he sat, feeling suddenly ill. He didn't think he'd injured anything important – it felt like the wound was fairly deep but he knew that he hadn't cut an artery or else he would have bled out on the way back to the surface. But he'd still clearly lost a lot of blood and that combined with his other injuries was making him feel tired and light-headed. 

Maybe this wasn't so bad, then. At least if he fell unconscious he wouldn't have to deal with facing the rest of Scepter 4 all too soon, wouldn't have to look at their faces as he walked into the room the disgraced traitor returning to the only place he had left to go back to. 

Fushimi sighed heavily, head lowered. He wondered if it would be okay to just take a nap right here and let the rest of the world pass him by. Maybe Munakata would be kind enough to leave him here alone and he wouldn't have to deal with anything else at all. 

“Are you in pain, Fushimi-kun?” And then Munakata was there at his side and Fushimi started slightly; he hadn't even seen Munakata walk back towards him. Fushimi's leg throbbed and his head pounded and still he averted his eyes with a click of his tongue. 

“I'm fine. It's just a small cut.” Just a small lie, and he could tell by Munakata's expression that he hadn't believed it in the least. 

“Nonetheless, it should be looked at.” Munakata moved over to retrieve a first aid kit from one of the cabinets that lined the wall. “If you would, Fushimi-kun.” 

“Can't this be taken care of later?” Fushimi muttered under his breath, face averted. Somehow it felt uncomfortable all of a sudden, being here alone with Munakata. 

Alone with the person who was supposed to be his King, and yet suddenly all Fushimi could think of was bar Homra and Suoh Mikoto and the stifling feeling of being unable to breathe. 

“Once we get back to Scepter 4 we will have to have you properly evaluated in the infirmary,” Munakata said. “Until then, however, it would be best to take care of the wound as much as possible in order to facilitate proper healing. Now, if you would let me see it.” 

Fushimi shifted in his seat, another refusal on his lips, but Munakata was staring at him unflinchingly. Fushimi clicked his tongue quietly and then carefully began to maneuver out of one leg of his pants. 

The wound on his thigh looked even worse once the clothes were pulled away. The surrounding skin was dark with blood and the edges of the wound were flushed red. Munakata's eyes narrowed just slightly as he looked at it, reaching into the first aid kit for some disinfectant pads. Carefully he pressed a hand against the cut and Fushimi couldn't help the hiss of pain that escaped his lips as Munakata pushed down slightly. 

“It appears you avoided injuring anything vital,” Munakata reported. He carefully began to dab at the wound with disinfectant. Fushimi hissed again, shoulders hunching as his fingers dug into the bed beneath him. “Even so, I expect the wound will need stitches and you will need to stay off your feet for the next several days. I'm afraid I will have to keep you on light duty only until it heals.” 

“Is that so?” Fushimi's voice sounded distant in his own ears. “I'm being allowed my old job back, then?” 

There was a long heavy silence between them and Munakata's hands froze where they touched him. 

“Certainly, Fushimi-kun.” There was no hesitation in Munakata's voice when he replied, hands moving again as he carefully cleaned the wound. “You have done a fine job. What reason would I have to remove you?” 

“Don't give me that crap.” Fushimi felt a rush of anger hot through his veins, burning through him like an infection that spread from where Munakata's fingers pressed against his bloody leg. “It's not like everything's still the same now, is it?” His fingers clenched again and Fushimi could feel the words rising like bile in his throat, as though he would choke on them if he tried to swallow them back down. “I'm a traitor, after all.” 

Another pause. But this time it felt as though those hands against his skin trembled slightly as they continued to wipe the blood away, and Fushimi wondered if he was hallucinating somehow. Munakata's hands never trembled after all, never shook with uncertainty or doubt. Not like Fushimi, with the words that always churned through his mind and never went silent, that would shake his body to pieces if he stopped to listen to them too long. “You said it, didn't you?” He couldn't stop himself, couldn't bring himself to just close his mouth and pretend that everything had gone back to the way it was before. His own hands were definitely shaking now against the bed and Fushimi bit his lip hard as he tried to at least keep his voice steady, telling himself that it was only the blood loss that made him feel so weak all of a sudden. “That was the whole point of this operation, right? Something only a traitor could do.” 

_“No, you're not!”_ Misaki's voice, again, and still it wasn't loud enough to silence the twisting of his stomach or the ringing in his head. It had been so easy to believe those words when he'd been underground, fighting for his life for a reason he couldn't even name. And it had been like the lifting of a weight too, when Misaki had spoken to him, had given him the answer he'd been unable to reach on his own for so long. 

_“That means to you, the Blue King was your King all along!”_

And yet even with that answer Fushimi couldn't bring himself to look up and meet Munakata's eyes. Misaki's words warring in his head with Munakata's own – “ _Pathetic”_ – and no amount of trying to shake them out would silence the sound. 

He was being stupid, he knew that. It had all been part of the plan, right? Fushimi had said things himself, so many words intended to bruise, all for the sake of the plan they had set out from the beginning. But still, the voices in his head wouldn't be silenced. 

There was a rustle of clothing as Munakata straightened up and then Fushimi felt a hand resting gently on his head. 

“I had thought that my plan had failed.” Munakata's voice was low and gentle and his smile as he gazed down at Fushimi was sincere and almost soft, somehow, something that made Fushimi's breath catch in an entirely different way than before. “When jungle's headquarters began to crumble. Despite everything, I myself was still alive. I had assumed that my destiny was to end in death and I had accepted that, for the sake of my ideals. But in that moment as I found myself alive and the battle won, it seemed to me still that my plan had failed in the end. After all, you had not returned yet.” 

“W—what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Fushimi could feel a catch in his throat – _“I had assumed my destiny was to end in death”_ and hadn't he known that too, when he'd stormed out of Scepter 4, the likelihood that even if he succeeded he would never see Munakata again – and Fushimi looked away. Munakata's hand remained where it was and his voice was strong and sure. 

“Had I died defeating Ootori Seigo, I would not have regretted it,” Munakata continued. “If I could defeat that man for the sake of the order of this country and for that of the people who I am sworn to protect, I knew that I would have the fortitude to accept my fate in the end. But even then, as I moved forward along the path I had set for myself, I knew that should this fate end in death there would still be one regret I would be unable to dispel.” And Munakata's hands were definitely shaking this time, Fushimi could feel it, and that held him silent almost more than the words did. “That I was unable to speak with you once more and apologize for my words that night after the battle at Mihashira Tower. So allow me to remedy that now. I apologize for hurting you, Fushimi-kun.” 

The words were like a shock through his veins, things he had wanted to believe and things he was certain couldn't be true warring in his head, and Fushimi looked up to meet Munakata's eyes. 

“Tch. Don't say stupid things.” Fushimi looked away almost immediately and Munakata laughed quietly, hand finally removing itself from Fushimi's head as Munakata knelt back down to continue taking care of Fushimi's wound. “It was true, wasn't it? There wouldn't be any point to this, if I wasn't a traitor.” 

“I believe you have misunderstood something, Fushimi-kun,” Munakata said mildly as he began to wind a bandage around Fushimi's leg. “It is true that I chose you for this mission due to your specific skills. But I believe I told you this once before: 'there is always a possibility for traitors to betray again.'” 

“Which is why you had me join jungle, right?” Fushimi muttered coldly. 

“Allow me to finish.” Munakata carefully secured the bandage and stepped back as Fushimi slowly pulled his pants back on. “It is true, that I would not place my trust in a traitor. But someone who _others_ believe to be a traitor...this can be a valuable tool in the right hands. I instructed you to join jungle because I believed that Hisui Nagare would look at your past and assume that you had betrayed me the same as you once betrayed Homra. But for myself, had I truly believed that you were a traitor, I would never have allowed you so easily out of my sight.” Munakata regarded him openly and somehow this time Fushimi couldn't bring himself to look away. “Had you betrayed me today, Fushimi-kun, your life would have been in no danger. I myself knew this and yet I continued to move forward with the intention of confronting both Hisui Nagare and Ootori Seigo. I did this because I had full trust in you, that you would follow your assigned mission to the end. A traitor will indeed betray again...but the person I have placed my trust in is not, in my eyes, a traitor at all. Therefore, for myself, there was nothing to fear beyond the possibility that you would be unable to return after the mission was complete.” 

“He offered me a place in jungle.” He hadn't intended to say it. Fushimi had expected to keep that part of the mission to himself, not letting anyone else know the choice that had been placed before him, but the words came anyway. “Hisui Nagare. He told me that as long as I didn't open the way to jungle's secret base I wouldn't be considered a traitor. That since I didn't belong in Scepter 4 or in Homra, I should just stay in jungle instead.” 

“I imagine such an offer would have been tempting.” Munakata's voice was mild, free of any judgment or rebuke. “Your safety would have been guaranteed, after all.” 

“Yeah. I guess it would have been.” Fushimi laughed quietly.”I'm an idiot too, then, for turning him down so easily.” 

“And yet you did turn him down,” Munakata said. “Had you not cleared a way into jungle's headquarters all our preparations would have been for naught. So I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude as well, Fushimi-kun.” 

“It wasn't because of that.” Fushimi stared down at his hands. “It was only that...” And he knew the words that he needed to say, the ones he'd never been able to quite get past his throat, this time suddenly springing so easily from his mouth. “...my King is the Blue King, after all.” 

Munakata's eyes widened for just a moment, and then the surprise on his features settled into a pleased smile. 

“Thank you, Fushimi-kun.” 

There was the sound of voices in the distance and Munakata stood up, turning to look towards the door. 

“I see we have company.” 

Fushimi didn't even get a chance to reply before the door burst open. 

“Fushimi-san!” There was a streak of blue and red and suddenly Fushimi found himself nearly knocked down, struggling to breathe through a bruising embrace. “We were so worried!” 

“Doumyoji you idiot--” Fushimi struggled weakly but Doumyoji's grip on him didn't waver, hugging him even harder and wailing like a little kid whose lost cat had just come home. 

“Fushimi-san? It really is Fushimi-san, right?” Hidaka leaned around the door, almost as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes. “Fushimi-san!” 

Fushimi gave a grunt of annoyance as Hidaka practically launched himself across the room, laughing like an idiot as his arms wrapped around Fushimi's shoulders. 

“Fushimi-san is back?” Enomoto's voice was hesitant and his eyes brightened as he saw Fushimi there all but smothered by Hidaka and Doumyoji. Enomoto turned to call to someone behind him as he stepped into the van.”Fushimi-san is back!” 

“Oh, if it isn't Fushimi-san.” Gotou was the next one in, with Fuze following after. Gotou leisurely crossed the floor towards Fushimi, joining in on the hug with a serene smile. Enomoto hovered nervously behind him, a tentative smile on his face, and even Fuze couldn't manage to look disapproving as he placed a hand on Hidaka's shoulder. 

“If you idiots don't get off of me...” Fushimi growled, trying to shove them off of him to no avail. Hidaka was alternating between laughing and crying and Doumyoji was pounding on his back in a way that was probably meant to be friendly but was making his back ache. 

“Captain, I heard that Fushimi-san was--” Akiyama's voice cut off as he opened the door to the van and caught sight of Fushimi there on the cot, still being half-strangled by Doumyoji and Hidaka. Akiyama gave a sharp intake of breath and Fushimi shot him a flat look, hoping that someone with sense had finally shown up to peel these idiots off of him. 

“Fushimi-san!” And then Akiyama was hugging him too, voice filled with nothing but relief. From over Akiyama's head Fushimi could just see Benzai following his partner inside, shaking his head but smiling as he moved to join everyone, with Kamo right on his heels. 

Somehow Fushimi felt like he couldn't quite breathe, and blamed it on the wounds. 

“Now, now, everyone, please be certain not to smother poor Fushimi-kun. He has had a rough day, after all.” Munakata's voice sounded far too amused and if Fushimi hadn't currently been buried under a pile of subordinates he would have shot Munakata a glare for it. 

“R-right, my apologies!” Akiyama quickly pulled back, hands at his sides and looking sheepish. Hidaka followed suit, still laughing a bit as Gotou tugged him back, and Kamo stepped forward to help loosen Doumyouji's grip and drag him away. 

“Sorry, sorry, I guess we got a little carried away?” Hidaka's tone was contrite but it seemed like he couldn't keep the smile off his face and Fushimi had no idea why. “We were just really worried when you left and—oh, wait, right, I kept this for you...” Hidaka turned around for a moment as if looking for something and then Enomoto nudged him and handed him something. 

Moments later Fushimi found a familiar blue coat being laid over his shoulders. 

“I kinda...kept it?” Hidaka said hesitantly. “Well, we all did. I mean, we took it back to your room first but then when we left headquarters earlier I thought I should bring it along since maybe you would be here and you might want it when you came back and...” Hidaka's face fell for a moment, as if an unpleasant idea had just occurred to him. “Fushimi-san...you—you _are_ coming back, right? To Scepter 4?” 

Everyone's faces grew serious suddenly, looking at him almost in _worry,_ as if it mattered where Fushimi went or not. Munakata was still smiling at him, though, completely calm. 

“Captain, you needed me for something?” Awashima's voice broke the silence as she appeared at the door. There was something tucked under her arm and when she saw the group of them clustered inside she sighed. “So this is where everyone went. Captain--” 

Her voice trailed off as she suddenly realized who exactly was sitting there hunched on the bed in the middle of the rest of the squad. 

“Fushimi-kun...” Awashima took a step towards him, expression surprised and almost confused. She glanced back over at Munakata. “Captain, what...” 

“I'm afraid I must apologize to all of you,” Munakata said smoothly. “In order to defeat jungle, I had no choice but to engage in some slight deception. Fushimi-kun was only assisting me, in carrying out my orders to infiltrate jungle from the inside.” 

“Orders?” Akiyama repeated slowly. “So...” 

“So you never betrayed us, right?” Hidaka said eagerly, leaning on the cot towards Fushimi. “I knew it! I—I knew you wouldn't—wouldn't--” He wiped a hand over his eyes and Fushimi only stared at him blankly. 

“I see.” Awashima's cold voice cut through the air and Fushimi felt his body stiffen. The others carefully moved aside as she walked towards where Fushimi sat, and more than one person's eyes were drawn to the conspicuous red mark still on Munakata's cheek. “Is this true, Fushimi-kun?” 

Her tone was clipped and her face was unreadable. Fushimi straightened slightly, looking away. 

“Yes ma'am.” He supposed being hit was a suitable punishment, all things considered. He'd thrown a knife at her, after all, and he steeled himself in preparation for the blow. 

The blow which never came and instead Awashima's arms wrapped around him and held him close to her, her grip iron tight and he couldn't even manage to squirm away. 

“Did you at least find somewhere to sleep?” She released her grip on him only to immediately start fussing, hands pushing his bangs away from his face and her eyes scanning him for injuries, lingering for a moment on his bloodstained pants. “Honestly, Fushimi-kun, look at you, you're a mess.” Awashima shook her head and the clear _relief_ in her expression made his eyes widen. “At least you made it back, I suppose.” 

“I guess she's not going to hit him,” Doumyoji said in what Fushimi supposed the idiot thought was a whisper. Awashima coughed, looking slightly embarrassed as she stepped back. 

“Yes, it seems we are all pleased to have Fushimi-kun back,” Munakata said pleasantly. “Awashima-kun, did you bring the item I requested?” 

“Yes sir.” There was a slight amused edge to her smile as she moved to retrieve the item she'd handed off to Benzai when she had spotted Fushimi on the cot. It was wrapped in a cloth and she handed it to Munakata almost reverently. 

“I had hoped to have use for this again. It seemed prudent to have it stored in one of the vans, just in case.” Munakata carefully unwrapped the item and Fushimi found his breath catching just slightly. 

His sword lay there in Munakata's hands. 

Fushimi's hands twitched just a bit as Munakata approached him. He began to reach for the sword but then Munakata abruptly stopped, pulling the saber from its sheath. Fushimi froze, his entire body suddenly humming with a strange feeling and he found himself lowering his head as Munakata touched the blade against his left shoulder. 

"Pledge to the sword that you will conduct yourself with the pride and faith befitting a swordsman, and take the sword.” Munakata's voice was calm and sure, and Fushimi could hear small sounds of surprise from the others around him. 

In his mind's eye he could see it, a cold day in the rain and the sword pressed against his shoulder, and the words he had spoken then. Fushimi smirked slightly as he looked up to meet Munakata's gaze. 

“That pride and pledge and such...isn’t really necessary, you know.” The words were the same but the tone had changed entirely, and Fushimi waited. 

Munakata seemed pleased by his answer, sheathing the sword again as he held it out for Fushimi to take. 

Behind him, Awashima was watching them both with a fond smile. Hidaka was still hovering by Fushimi's shoulder with that ridiculous grin on his face and Akiyama standing guard beside, Benzai and Kamo, Enomoto, Fuze, Gotou and stupid idiot Doumyoji, all of them perfectly silent – none of the muttering and whispering of that first ceremony, only pride and happiness and such a clear obvious relief that he was _here_ , that he was still breathing and still a part of them, that after everything he had made his way back at last. There was no real ceremony this time, no giant gathering in front of everyone, all the pomp and circumstance of before exchanged for the small cramped van and a handful of people waiting eagerly for his response. 

Somehow it felt _right_ this time, and he reached out with both hands and took the sword. There was a small cheer from the others around him, and Munakata placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Welcome home, Fushimi-kun.”


End file.
